


Trust and Other Disasters

by Elodie (rubberbisquit), rubberbisquit



Category: Night Hunter (2018)
Genre: F/M, Post-Movie, Pre-Movie, Slow Burn, Vignettes, Walter Marshall needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28845639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/Elodie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/rubberbisquit
Summary: Anna has known Walter Marshall for many years, working side-by-side with Rachel and the guys down in Cyber Crimes.  However, a better job opportunity took her away from the precinct during the events of Night Hunter.  With Rachel taking a leave of absence, Anna is back and finds that Marshall needs her help.A series of vignettes that explore the ways people are made to suffer and the way that pain changes them.
Relationships: Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Walter is my favorite. This will be updated once or twice a week. Feel free to come visit me on tumblr: https://itsrubberbisquit.tumblr.com/
> 
> Once more, thank you so much pensieve-foryour-thoughts for the lovely beta.

Statistically, rates of spousal abuse tended to go up while Homicide was working an active case. There was a noticeable tightness in the seams of the building, as though the worry has pressed everyone against the walls. Statistically, most of the people working in the precinct were married men that went home to their wives and took out their anger and frustration on someone they could actually _find._

But that was neither here nor there.

That’s not to say all of the cops and detectives and the captain were bad men, bad people. There were the true gentlemen that disappeared into work instead of bringing it home. The ones took out their exhaustion on their case files and dropped exhausted onto whatever couch they could find. They wouldn’t see their families for days. Weeks. Afraid of bringing anything too close to the people they cared most for and those men were the ones that would break hearts. A couple of the women too, drawn up tight in the worst of humanity and unable to share it with the people they’d swore to honor and cherish.

But. That wasn’t particularly relevant at the moment. 

There were no active cases currently; the Minneapolis 5th Precinct was settled into a post-traumatic lull since the _twins_ had found their end at the bottom of a lake. It was _quiet_ and it felt like a trap to anyone who cared to think about it too much.

The quiet was partially fueled by relief: the team had gotten a serial murderer off the streets. Maybe two. No one was ever 100% sure if Simon had helped his brother with the murders. But, that wasn’t important. They were both _dead and thank fucking god._

The other reason for the quiet was regret: Hard work and dedication had closed the case. Ceaseless effort from the precinct’s crack team of investigators had brought the twins to some sense of justice. And _almost_ everyone on the team had made it to celebrate their victory.

And that was important.

The precinct lost, Rachel Chase, one of their best profilers to mental issues. 

They also lost one of their best investigators to a car bomb, but that was much less of a focus. Rachel had been a prodigy. Poor Matt Quinn had been a code monkey and although he’d gotten the deserved 21-gun salute at his funeral it had been sparsely attended.

On that overcast and frigid day in the cemetery, Anna Janssen had gripped Rachel’s hand tight and tried not to cry. Matt’s husband was losing his shit on the far side of the casket and Rachel was close to tears herself.

Anna just felt numb. She’d worked in the Cyber Crimes department for five years, leaving not six months prior for a position with the Hennepin Sherriff’s department. Hennepin had offered her a hell of a raise and her own office. Rachel had understood but at that funeral, when Rachel had turned to her with panic in her eyes, Anna knew everything was about to change. Rachel hadn’t been able to handle what had happened with the twins, taking an _extended leave_ as soon as Anna had settled in and she only cursed her friend once a week.

The work was boring: mostly online scams these days with a single active missing person. And the office was quiet. No Rachel meant no gossip which meant she had no idea what was going on in the precinct. As far as she was concerned there was only the four walls covered in posters from the 90’s and Quinn. Quinn who’d had a baby right after she’d left and sometimes brought the tiny human in when he needed to.

Those were her very favorite days and she gave the bundle strapped to her chest with a knit baby wrap a fond smile. Her leg was cramping but Mirabelle had _just_ drifted off to sleep. Sometimes the smell of that new baby made her ovaries clench in an uncomfortable warning that her biological clock was running short on time. Anna didn’t pay that clock much mind and instead began the tedious process of shifting her leg out from underneath her. Carefully, she adjusted the bundled baby and got both her feet on the ground.

She let out a huge sigh of relief, relaxing fully into her chair. At least it was Friday. And there weren’t any cases which would require her over the weekend. Her hand made entle passes on Mira’s soft downy head while she daydreamed about the hot bath she’d take that night.

The sound of a distinct stride echoed in the hallway leading to their office. Her brow furrowed. She knew that walk. And the inevitable loud, judging grumping that was sure to follow. She’d been back for almost a month but hadn’t spoken more than a handful of words to the detective now descending on the department. From the speed with which he was walking she suspected he was in a hurry and wasn’t about to wait to see the _infant_ asleep in her arms. In preparation for his arrival, she picked up her stress ball and drew it back.

When the untamed curls of one detective Walter Marshall appeared in the doorway she gave him a few seconds to behave like a real human. Say hello. Notice that she had the babe and not be loud. 

Hard blue eyes found her and he opened his mouth. The nasty expression on his face gave away his foul mood and she preemptively threw the stress ball at his head. Gently.

Sleeping baby and all that.

The sound Marshall made when he dodged out of the way of the squishy ball almost startled a snort out of her. It was so unlike him, a little high pitched and startled. She grinned madly, mouth gaping and trying not to cackle.

He peeked around the door jamb for the second time and she had the consideration to gesture to Mira before holding a finger to her lips.

She _desperately_ wanted to laugh like a mad woman. He still looked disgruntled.

The displeasure was very likely Mira’s presence in the building, but you know what? Fuck him. She’d looked after his kid at least twice when Faye had been in pigtails and Marshall’s ex couldn’t pick her up from school in time.

When the large man approached a second time, he was silent on his feet and she marveled at the shift from grumpy detective to predator. Practically stalking now, he was the very definition of a strapping and viral man. She’d be a dirty liar if she said she wouldn’t give her left shoe to get that man naked but that opportunity had passed many years before.

“Detective. Sorry for the aerial assault. I _just_ got her settled.” She rocked just a little bit, mindful of every move the child made in case she disturbed Mira. Marshall watched the child in her arms for a long moment before finally looking up at Anna’s face.

Many years before there had been a bottle of tequila and a Christmas party. She didn’t remember a lot, however the look of mortification on Walter Marshall’s face when she’d asked if that was his gun in his pocket or if he was just happy to see her would be burned into her mind forever.

Marshall cleared his throat then pushed the sleeves of his soft, gray sweater up past his elbows. Interesting. He had a favor to ask.

“I was hoping I’d catch you alone.” He waited a beat, and then two, and then he was delaying. His eyes wandered the room, his feet following to the cork board she kept up with all their active cases. It was relatively empty at the moment, just a couple of fraud cases and one missing teen from downstate. Marshall lingered at the missing person’s flyer, a frown cutting across his already stern features.

Marshall had a soft spot for the ones that disappeared. She’d never pried the story out of him personally but there were rumors. Rumors about an insanely young victim who had been physically and sexually abused before she was killed and dumped. One of the guys in the bullpen, Anna could never remember all their names, kept the newspaper clipping of her disappearance on his desk for anyone to see. This girl was the same age as Faye had been at the time. According to Glasgow, Marshall had almost quit after months of investigating had turned up nothing. He had, in fact, been gone almost a month before the Captain brought him back.

The big detective had been different after then if the stories were to be believed. Harder. Less ‘fresh out of the military’ full of himself jock and more ‘believes everyone is out to get his kid at every moment’. 

This was a few years before Anna had landed the gig down in Cyber Crimes and by the time she’d arrived Marshall had just been quiet. Quiet but aggressive and she’d spent too many hours those early days watching him pace the halls of the precinct.

Walter Marshall was beautiful and damaged and that was a combination that should send every woman running for the hills. It meant carving out pieces of themselves to patch up the holes in the man, many times to the detriment of the woman.

  
Anna had no interest in all that.

She might not want to pull herself apart for Marshall but Anna probably wouldn’t turn him down if he offered to take her home for a night. She could see the hard shape of him easily through that sweater and those thighs. Whew. A smile flirted at the edges of her lips as she watched him avoid whatever it was he wanted to ask.

He turned back to her and then froze when he realized she’d been watching him delay. It was kind of cute, the fleeting guilt. He must have a big favor to ask; the detective spending any amount of time not case-related in her office was just not a thing that happened. Ever. 

“Just ask. The worst I can do is say no.” His eyebrows almost hit his hairline and she gave him a wan smile. He let out a huff and ran a hand through his curls. With surgical precision, he stalked back to stop in front of her desk. He crossed his arms and gave her a steady look. She raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

He bit his lip.

Now that was just rude, she thought.

“I need you to talk to Faye.” _Ah._ The hesitation was Faye.

Faye was a good kid. She was young and curious and Anna had the feeling neither of her parents were paying much attention to her. Unless something had changed drastically in the last year.

The look of desperation on Marshall’s face indicated nothing had changed. Faye was still making stupid choices online and it was driving her parents insane.

“What is it this time?”

Marshall relaxed, finally, and dropped into the chair across from her workstation. He scrubbed a tired hand over weary eyes and her heart went out to him. He’d been at the center of the _psycho twins maelstrom._ Glasgow had implied that he and Rachel had . . . that is to say after the case . . . Anna didn’t want to know.

She truly didn’t.

Marshall huffed out a resigned sigh and his gaze wandered the room. His normally well put-together accent was rough and tired. Just like the rest of him. “The usual, honestly. I just don’t know what to do with her anymore. I’ve tried talking to her about it. I’ve yelled about it, at her and her mother, and it’s not fair to yell at either of them.” His eyes locked back on her and she felt a flutter low in her abdomen. No. Bad ovaries. “Faye doesn’t understand the gravity of what she’s messing around with.”

A long, long time ago, when she’d been young and dumb, Anna had spent hours on AIM and MSN Messenger talking to people she had no business talking to. Everyone had been terrified of predators on the internet but no one had ever taught her generation how to avoid being a target.

It appeared nothing really changed.

“How old is she now?”

Marshall had to pause and think and Anna rolled her eyes. How stereotypical. He caught her expression and his mood soured even further. His words were gruffer than he’d probably intended. “12. Going on 30. I feel like a fool. I should have done more when she was younger. I should have . . . ” He cut himself off with a growl and Anna’s heart broke for him, just a little bit.

She wanted to take Marshall by the shoulders and tell him everything was going to be fine. He was a good dad and he was right to be concerned. He was doing the right thing by asking for her help: he was doing exactly what any good dad should be doing right then.

But the baby in her arms wouldn’t’ let her move and no matter how touch-starved Walter Marshall might be he’d already turned her down. She wasn’t about to let him do it again.

Instead of reaching for the man across the desk, Anna leaned back to give herself some space. She could set up a trap for the pre-teen. Make Faye see how easy it was for someone to track her down and do her harm. It was a shitty thing to do but the US sex trade wasn’t a joke. “Okay. Do you have a list of her social media accounts? Or at least the one she uses the most?”

His smile was so wide and grateful that it almost bowled her over. In their many years of acquaintance, he’d never graced her with the sight. She smiled back a little awkwardly as he stood, dropping a piece of paper on the desk. Anna moved to grab it but he put a hand over it so she’d look back up at him. “Thank you. Faye is a great kid. I don’t know what I’d do-”

In a move that was simultaneously ridiculously unprofessional but so in time with the dance they’d been sharing for five years, Anna covered his hand with her own and gave it a squeeze. “Relax, Detective. I’ll take a look.” He gave her a grateful look and Mira, disturbed by the sudden movement, mewled softly in protest.


	2. To Be Fair

“Hey, check it out.” Rachel’s words were low and urgent in Anna’s ear. She followed where the brunette was pointing and her beer froze, half way to her lips. There, at the annual MPD Fair booth, was Walter Marshall.

Walter Marshall in a towel and shirtless with his curls dripping wet. 

Anna’s brain short circuited for a few seconds as she analyzed the scene in front of her. When clarity finally came she took a deep drink of her beer. May God bless whoever decided the department needed a dunk tank at their booth to raise funds during the State Fair.

She watched as he shook his head ruefully, talking with a kid and his mom. Little droplets of water scattered across his shoulders. The mom looked like she was drooling. Anna was pretty sure she was drooling too because Marshall had been deceiving everyone, wearing those bulky sweaters he favored.

Her eyes traced along his strong upper back, a chest liberally scattered with hair and down to his trim waist. 

She could swear she saw a few drops of water disappear under that towel and she had to swallow back a moan. Rachel was quiet beside her, both of them enjoying the sight in front of them. He brought a hand up, brushing back the wet hair off his forehead and both women let out a deep sigh in unison. “I had no idea he was so …” Rachel’s voice drifted off.

Anna swallowed again and nodded absently as she finished her friend’s sentence. “Healthy. He’s real healthy.” Anna wasn’t friends, per say, with the detective so she would have had no reason to see him topless before and boy howdy had she been missing out.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered his ex must have been _crazy_ to leave a man that looked like that. Anna squashed the thought immediately; at the very least it was unkind since she really didn’t know why he was recently separated from his wife.

Behind them, a pair of laughing voices called their names and they both turned to find their dates with treats. Mike was a soft creature, a little immature for Anna but sweet in his devotion. She’d found him milling around the station, waiting to bail a buddy out for drunk and disorderly. Anna hadn’t been _looking_ for a boyfriend and they enjoyed a pleasurable relationship predicated on good sex and hanging out when appropriate. He handed her a bag of doughnuts and her face lit up _. Her favorite_. Rachel’s date, Eric or Evan or Ian, was a paramedic. He’d responded to a call at her apartment building and, according to Rachel, had showed back up at the end of his shift with pizza. The brunette had always been a sucker for junk food. Rachel gave a pleased cry when she saw the bucket of cookies in Ike/Aaron/Evan’s hands.

Such good dates.

Mike grinned a lopsided affair that gave her pause. There was a lot of ground at a State Fair. Surely there was somewhere they could _disappear_ for a half hour. 

Marshall was forgotten with the careless arm Mike threw over Anna’s shoulders.

They drifted through the morning watching tractor pulls and lumberjack shows. For lunch she bought Mike a deep fried Twinkie, if only to watch him lick the frosting off his lips with a laugh. She leaned in and took care of what he’d missed with a deep kiss. He was fun and friendly and the perfect companion. When they ended up in the baby animal barn his hand slipped into hers to give her fingers a squeeze. The baby sheep they were looking at were so. fucking. cute. 

The flash of familiar curls in her periphery had her turning to find Marshall, yet again. Was he stalking her? The miniature head of curls at his side suggested not. Faye was walking with her father, trying to contain her excitement at all the animals. At 9 years old, Faye was still pretty small and Marshall’s eyes were watching his kid like a hawk as she wove from enclosure to enclosure. He wasn’t smiling, exactly, but he wasn’t frowning like normal and Anna found that she liked the look on him. It suited him.

By the time she realized she should drag Mike through the crowd to say hello, her date had disappeared. She lost the Marshalls to the same crush while she hunted in vain for a very different head of curly hair.

Mike had found a beer vendor outside, because of course he had, and Anna accepted an overpriced Bud Lite with a rueful chuckle. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to get me drunk and have your way with me.”

The tall, strapping lad in front of her drew her close, always mindful of their beverages, and took her earlobe between his teeth. The rasp as he drew the flesh across his lips had her shivering. “I don’t need to get you drunk for that. Just alone.” There was a promise in those words and she was grinning when he leaned back.

She put her beer down, ignoring the squawk of protest about the _$12_ shit beer, and dragged Mike off towards the side gate. She’d spied a service closet over there earlier.

She didn’t catch the eyes of one Walter Marshall, hand firmly holding his daughter at his side but all of his senses focused on the petite blond leading the much larger man away to a deserted area.

Faye’s excited shouting drew Anna’s attention, close to dinner time. The four-some were deep in the International Bazaar and gouging on eggrolls. Anna had just enough time to look up, recognize the whirl of pigtails streaking towards her, and set her paper plate down on the bar top next to her.

The impact of the younger Marshall made Anna grin as they both staggered a few steps, Faye’s arms wrapped firmly around her middle.

“Anna! I missed you!”

Anna had babysat Faye a couple of afternoons in the Cyber Crimes office at Marshall’s earnest pleading. The two had spent most of the time coloring and talking about the best flavors of ice cream. She hadn’t seen the girl in a few months, not since the _divorce._

The elder Marshall appeared like a storm cloud behind the child: he was a little out of breath and glaring at his kid. “Faye! I told you not to run off.” His accent was strained, words slipping over his worry. 

“But Dad! It’s Anna!” The girl leaned back and gave the blond a blinding smile. Anna wondered, absently, why Faye clung so tight to her. They’d had a great time hanging out, sure, but nothing particularly memorable. The grumpy look on Marshall’s face made her think maybe Faye had been fighting the grump all day and needed a friend who wasn’t glaring at her. Anna couldn’t blame Marshall. He’d burn the fair to the ground to find Faye.

She patted the top of Faye’s head but turned her back towards her dad. “I’m really happy to see you but you can’t run away from your Dad like that. There’s a lot of people here, too many.” One of their afternoons, between coloring, Anna had been called to look at a missing person case and she’d ended up having to explain why some people disappeared to the attentive 2nd grader.

Marshall had been less than pleased when he’d found out Anna had detailed a few ways kids were taken, explaining to Faye the ways she could avoid it herself. He’d felt the kid wasn’t old enough and Anna had shot back that if Faye didn’t know then, what would happen when she needed that knowledge?

Back at the Fair, Marshall looked relieved at the contrition on his daughter’s face and the small regret in her voice when she apologized for running off. He gave Anna a gruff nod and held out his hand for Faye. “Come on, let’s leave Anna and her friends alone.” His eyes scooted over the other three adults. He gave Rachel a nod too but had nothing but the stink eye for Mike and Evan (his name was _Evan)_. Anna would have laughed if she wasn’t so sobered by her run in with the father and daughter.

Mike scoffed at Marshall’s brusque behavior and took her hand. “Hey, beautiful. Let’s go check out the Haunted House.”

She nodded distractedly while she watched the tall detective disappear into the crowd.

Hours later, at the end of her long day in which she’d made her step count three times over, Anna was collapsed on a bench right at the edge of the Midway. At her back was the horse barn with all the related smells and to her front, Mike and Evan were trying to win some stuffed animals with a rigged basketball game. Rachel was watching on in amusement at their sides and Anna smiled at the scene. It had been a wonderful day, much needed before the cold of winter stole all her joy. She shivered a bit, her mind immediately conjuring the snow drifts and wind chill she cursed most of the year.

“Hey, uh, Janssen.”

The low voice came from over her shoulder and Anna about jumped out of her skin. She whipped her head around and found, surprise of all surprise, Marshall standing just behind her bench. She gave him a smile, relieved she wasn’t being clocked by a stalker, and a bit of a wave. “Hey, Detective. Where’s the kid?” She’d noted Faye wasn’t with her dad and Marshall tilted his head to the horse barn.

The thought made her laugh. Faye was definitely going through a horse-girl phase. “We ran into a couple of her school friends. She’ll be done soon and I’m not one for barnyard smells.”

Her laugh was delighted at the comment. Of all the things that might bother Walter Marshall, she thought, barn smells wouldn’t have even made her list of guesses. And he must have been exhausted, letting Faye out of his sight after their earlier run-in at the Bazaar.

She couldn’t imagine the home life situation he was going through. Before today, when had he last seen his kid? After seeing her every day for 9 years straight, how often did he see her smile at him first thing in the morning?

It was enough to break her heart.

“Would you like to join me while you wait?” When the large man made to balk she gestured at her bench kindly. There was plenty of space and she wouldn’t mind the company. She suspected he really wouldn’t mind it either, no matter the dark set to his brow. It was getting late and the rest of her party didn’t look anywhere near done with their fun yet. 

He took up more room than she would have expected, his thighs not wide-spread, _per say,_ but rather just huge.

They sat in companionable silence until Mike’s silly behavior across the midway got a giggle out of her. And an irritated growl from Marshall. Now, why in the world would that bother him? “Your date seems … nice. Have you been seeing the boy for long?”

Tension, thick and unwelcome, climbed up her spine at the words. They sounded so innocent but from Marshall, there felt like a whole encyclopedia of meaning to read through. “The _boy_ is Mike. He’s 28 and he writes for the Tribune. So, not really a boy, detective.” She wondered why he would even care who she was there with. Her response got nothing more than a grunt out of him and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

Now Anna was doubly confused, both at his somewhat aggressive attitude towards her date as well as his dismissive countenance. Why had he even bothered to say hello if he was going to be weird about it.

She was about to ask, to drag this awkwardness out into the open, but the other three materialized in front of them. Rachel had her hand buried in Evan’s back pocket and Mike had a blinding grin only for her. And a four foot tall giraffe he was holding out to her in victory. She gave another giggle, overjoyed that at least _someone_ was happy to see her. She took the stuffed animal with a pleased hum.

“We named him Reginald.” Because of course they did.

She had to stand to properly get her arms around the stuffed animal and Mike swooped in to give her a kiss. He was a good kisser, even if he backed away just as quick. His eyes tracked something over her shoulder and Anna turned to find Marshall standing at her back. The detective, although very likely the same height as the other two men, seemed to loom alarmingly.

“Oh! Mike. Evan. This is Detective Marshall. Rachel and I work with him down at the precinct. We were just waiting for-.”

“Janssen. Chase. Nice to see you. Please excuse me.” All four were startled when Marshall dismissed himself and turned on his heel. He stalked back into the building, hands buried deep in his jeans and his head bowed. 

“What. The Hell. Was that?”

Anna didn’t have an answer for Mike and she knew it’d be a few days before she might see Marshall again. She made a mental note to ask him about it later. For now, she had a new friend named Reginald to finagle home and a beautiful man to take to bed.


	3. Target Practice

Anna typed out her last email of the week and sent it off. The swoosh sound effect meant the end of her work week and a much needed long weekend. She’d had a busy March. Between her two fraud cases and figuring out what Faye Marshall had gotten up to online, Anna was ready to crash. With that last email, she’d have two whole days with nothing but the sound of her washing machine and maybe some X-Files to keep her company.

The halls were quiet again, even for a Friday. She didn’t see another soul as she wound her way down one floor and into the main lobby. This was a pretty building on the main floor with a whole lot of glass and several works of art from locals dotting the waiting area.

Anna had always wondered why they’d put up art like that in a police precinct. Minneapolis was like that sometimes, though.

She had a hand on the door, ready to push it open, when the sound of her name being called out made her pause. She released a heavy sigh because she knew that voice and whatever he wanted was going to delay her evening. Her feet turned her back to see Commissioner Harper. The older gentleman was waiting at the stairs leading to the upper offices with an expectant look on his face.

“Did you forget something, Janssen?”

She frowned; she couldn’t have. Her cases were as resolved as they could be for now and she’d locked up behind her. His hand drifted down to his side, where his firearm would be if he still carried one.

_Shit._

Harper had a strict requirement that all of his officers and civilian liaisons be licensed with a firearm and keep adequate hours of the firing range at all times. While she’d been in St. Paul she’d allowed her hours to lapse and she’d lost her carry card. He’d been on her for weeks now about getting recertified. “Sir, I’m so sorry. It completely slipped my mind-.”

Harper gave her a wan smile. He’d been indifferent towards her during most of her tenure and when she’d returned it was under the expectation that she’d pull her weight as though she wasn’t _just filling in_ while Rachel got her head on straight.

If and when Rachel ever came back, Anna probably wouldn’t leave. With Matt dead, Cyber Crimes was more than capable of carrying everyone’s salaries again.

“You have two weeks, Janssen.”

_Shit._ He turned to go and she stared after him for a moment. He was indifferent but fair. She’d known the expectations even if she didn’t want to recertify. She didn’t want to carry a gun. It wasn’t ever necessary for her to be armed and the loud noises made her jumpy. Every time she was forced to go down to the range and practice she couldn’t sleep right for days.

Orders were orders though. With her head tilted back in a prayer to give her strength, she pulled out a set of papers from her bag. Harper had sent them down to her almost a month ago and she had promptly shoved them to the bottom of her bag to ignore until she couldn’t anymore. The release would get her into the armory and the shooting range. They would also allow the sergeant at arms to release a firearm into her possession while she practiced.

She really hoped they’d have a smaller 9 mm to use. The first time she’d gone through this process the officer on duty had given her a .38 that had nearly dislocated her wrist _and_ her shoulder.

Precinct 5 was unique in that it was farther outside the city center than other precincts and they had more room for things like equipment and shooting ranges. The range and armory were their own building, reinforced by layers of concrete and rebar. She had to tag in with her badge just to get into the small entryway. 

A younger man with a stern face peered up at her from his desk behind the barred window right past the entrance. “Yes?” She didn’t know the officer but he harrumphed unpleasantly when she passed over her tattered paperwork. “Says here you were supposed to start logging hours in February.”

She gave a shrug, not quite able to meet his judgmental eyes. “You know how it is. Things get busy.”

He must have eyed her department; he let out a scoff and a disbelieving, “Sure.” A few minutes passed in silence while he recorded her details and set her up with a shooting booklet. The booklet would keep track of her hours. Eighteen. Eighteen prerequisite hours in the next two weeks. She was going to be here every day until she was able to take that damn test.

Two weeks she wasn’t going to be sleeping. 

“Got a weapon preference?”

At least the officer was nice enough to ask this time. She nodded and listed off the few guns she had knowledge of. He slid the Glock 17 over to her along with a box of ammo. “Sign.” He pointed and she complied, pen flourishing across the paper almost half a dozen times before he was satisfied. Safety gear followed. “You’re in lane 5. There’s only one other officer in there now so it should be fairly quiet. We’re shutting down at 7, but feel free to come back for more ammo if you need it.” He almost sounded friendly at the end there before he buzzed her through and Anna graced him with a smile. 

The gun and the ammo were heavy in her hands as she moved through the bars to the observation deck. It wasn’t a deck so much as it was a prep area with some windows looking into the range. The next room held six spaces for shooters, with high tech sound barriers and targeting devices down range; it was a nice space that the city of Minneapolis had spent a couple hundred thousand dollars on when it had been built.

If she liked guns she’d probably like to spend time down here. She didn’t like guns, and it was cold. Perhaps it was the chill, but she could already feel the anxiety creeping up her spine. She cracked her back and straightened her shoulder. The shooting glasses and ear protection surrounded two of her senses and her nose was overpowered with gunpowder as she pushed the door to the range open.

It was a surreal experience; one Anna was never in a rush to replicate. But now she had to so she would and well. That was just how it was.

Thirty minutes later, Anna had to stop and take a deep breath. Her heart was racing, her hands were unsteady, and she was pretty sure she’d missed at least 60% of her shots so far. She hadn’t had the heart to actually pull her target back in and see how poorly she’d been doing.

The box of bullets the officer had given her only had twelve empty spots.

This was going to take forever.

If she failed recertification, at least she’d never have to go through it again, she reasoned. Because she’d be fired.

There were worse things. Like accidentally shooting someone. Her head fell forward and she let out a huff of air. She needed a break. The gun discarded, she shook her hands out, desperate to rub some feeling back into her fingertips. She’d been gripping the gun so _tight._

At some point the other officer on the range had taken off so it was just her in the room now. The smell of gunpowder was overwhelming and she felt at ease enough to take off her ear protection. The sense of sound came flooding back to her and it was as though the entire room took a breath. That was better. 

She fiddled with the clip, reloading the couple of cases she’d expended. This didn’t have to be complicated. She just needed to get through it and then just be done. Eighteen hours in two weeks? Easy. 

Freshly renewed, she pulled her ear protection back on and assumed her shooting stance.

_Miss_

_Miss_

_Hit, but wildly off center_

_Miss_

“Fuck.” She set her gun down again and let out a rueful laugh. Maybe she should ask one of the guys on the floor to give her some pointers. She mentally scrolled through names and faces, trying to remember her trainer the last time around. She was sure she’d seen him just a week ago when he’d almost run her over rounding a corner. He hadn’t recognized her so maybe it hadn’t been that guy after all.

Whatever. Someone. She’d find someone.

A loud knock on the glass behind her had Anna whirling, weapon still in hand. As though summoned by the Gods of Masculine Beauty themselves, the deadpan face of Detective Marshall stared back at her. He leveled her with his patented unimpressed scowl then raised an eye brow at the gun she held.

Rule Number Whatever on the Range: always keep your weapon pointed down range. Always. Christ, especially when _loaded_. What the fuck had she been thinking? Anna whirled back to her lane, unloading the pistol and double checking the barrel. Of all the dumb, irresponsible things to do . . .

She took a calming breath, hoping it would get her heartbeat under control. Marshall was still watching her when she glanced back and a bitter disappointment settled at the base of her skull. _Fuck._

Marshall waved at her to join him in the next room and she complied with almost dragging feet. He probably wanted to talk about Faye, which was only mildly irritating. She’d sent him an email that morning letting him know she didn’t have any updates but he was right there. It’d be rude not to say hello and besides: any distraction was welcome at that point.

“Hey, Detective!” She kept her voice much more cheerful than she actually felt, hoping to cover her embarrassment. The adrenaline dump from shooting combined with her massive blunder with the gun was making her legs shaky. Maybe it was better that she take a break. 

She was two steps through the door before the wobble in her knees wasn’t able to bear her weight any longer. She lurched to the closest chair, eyes closed. Anna’s head was swimming and she knew she’d pass out shortly if she didn’t start modulating her breathing.

Movement to her left had her cracking one eye. Marshall had crouched next to her, concern on his face. Well, that was a first for him. “You alright?”

She nodded, gritting out words between clenched teeth. “Yeah, just dizzy all of a sudden. It’ll pass.” His hand was warm on her shoulder, heat seeping through the thin cotton of her shirt. She was stuck by the simplicity of the contact because Marshall very rarely touched people around him. He just didn’t . . . touch.

When Anna slid her eyes open, he was holding a bottle of water. “Take a sip. Good, that’s good.” Heat bloomed in her chest and she colored from the praise. 

“What are you doing here, Detective?” _Deflect, Anna! Deflect!_

Marshall cleared his throat and leaned back. He grabbed a chair, pulling it around so he could sit a few feet away from her. She missed his presence immediately, thinking to herself that the musky sandalwood of his cologne was helping keep her head clear. “I wanted to touch base with you about Faye. It’s not my weekend but if I need to talk with her I’d like a heads up.” Leaned forward on his elbows, Marshall was back to his regular demeanor. Until he glanced up at her with those curls in his eyes and she felt her cheeks heat even more.

Maybe she should just stop worrying about recertifying with her firearm. She was going to have to quit because she was apparently no longer able to be near Walter Marshall without sexualizing him. 

He raised an eyebrow expectantly. She would swear that eyebrow talked more for Marshall than his mouth did sometimes. 

“Like I said in my email, she’s got her stuff locked down tight. I found her on a couple of other sites you didn’t have listed but she’s done a good job with keeping her anonymity.” As Anna spoke she could feel her blood pressure normalizing and was able to straighten. Marshall gave her an encouraging nod when she paused to take another sip of water. “The only thing that _might_ cause concern for you, as a father, is that the cute nerd boy that sits behind her in Spanish class keeps drawing her as Wonder Woman. She finds it charming, by the way.”

The corners of his lips turned down and he let out a displeased grunt. She smiled softly back at the sight.

He was such a dad sometimes.

“So, no pressing concerns? You had mentioned trying to get her to meet up with a fake profile initially?”

She nodded, one more swig of water going down the hatch. She had contemplated it but decided the transgressive nature of such an act without any evidence that it would work wasn’t worth possibly damaging Faye’s trust. Not with Anna herself in general, but with her dad. 

A 12 year old girl was a fragile, grand thing. Marshall could lose a lot more than just her trust if Faye found out he’d asked someone to spy on her.

“It just wasn’t necessary. Don’t worry, I busted my buns on this one.” Her words almost got caught in her throat. What a dumb expression. She shouldn’t be talking about her buns.

“You know,” he leaned back and ran a hand through his curls to get them out of his face. He just made more of a mess and it was so _endearing_ it made her smile again. “I have never understood that expression. What do sweets have to do with hard work? It is like, a reward thing?”

It was her turn to unleash a confused eyebrow. “Sweets?” She hadn’t _ever_ referred to her ass a _sweet_ before. 

“Yeah, buns. Like hot crossed buns, right? What in the world does bread have to do with this?”

Suddenly it made sense and she choked back a laugh behind her hand. Some idioms just didn’t translate, she supposed. “It’s slang, Marshall. For one’s rear end. The phrase means I worked my butt off.”

Recognition dawned on his face and the confusion lifted. And then gave way to embarrassment as he realized what he’d been asking about. A soft pink tinged the very tops of his ears and Marshall straightened in his chair. “Well. Good to know.” She laughed a little at him, feeling herself once more.

“So how did you know to find me down here?”

His index finger tapped on the badge clipped to his shirt. “Honestly, I thought you’d have left for the day. Your office was locked so I checked the system and saw you hadn’t left yet. That you were out here instead.”

“Very good detective work, Detective.” She smirked and looked away unable to meet his eyes with her ridiculous comment. She really should get back to the range. But she didn’t want to. She desperately didn’t want to and her empty stomach seemed to be in agreement. It growled loudly as all that water hit it. Her life wasn’t at the whims of needy organs though. “And that’s probably my cue I should get back to practice so I can eat before midnight.” She got back to her feet, letting her head settle on right before she went to her bag to check her phone. It was only 5:30. She had plenty of time to get some more practice in before the range shut down for the night.

And really she needed to practice.

She wasn’t going to resign and she wasn’t going to fail her recertification. She just needed to get through the next few weeks and then it’d be smooth sailing. “I really owe you, Janssen, for your help with Faye.”

She shrugged, still looking at her phone. “It was nothing. I’m happy to help.” She shot off a text to her Mom, confirming lunch for the next day.

Marshall had stood with her and stuck his hands in his pockets. Her words had clearly been his chance to take off. And Marshall wasn’t from the Midwest. He wouldn’t feel the need to make small talk for another ten minutes before he finally departed. He should just . . . go. But he lingered instead. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re really shit with the 17. You should be shooting something with a smaller frame. It’d be a lot easier for you to hold.”

She paused, her entire being frozen at the not unkind words. She gave him a glance to see if he was fucking with her. Marshall wasn’t meeting her eyes but he didn’t look like he was trying to be a dick. Like he would have when they first met and he was just grumpy all the time. Instead his words sounded helpful. He honestly looked like he cared about her doing well and an unfamiliar warmth spread through her chest.

A slow grin crossed her face as an idea popped into her head. It was such a _bad_ idea, such an _irresponsible_ idea given her predilection towards sexy thoughts in his presence. And that’s what made it such a _perfect_ solution. She needed someone to train her again and she knew spending any amount of time with Marshall in close quarters would bring out that grumpy bear once more. He’d unintentionally remind her exactly why she wasn’t interested in him. Not anymore, at any rate.

“I think I just figured out how you can repay me for looking out for Faye.”


	4. A Charlie Brown Kiss

2016

The tinny sound of Bing Crosby’s _It’s Beginning to Look a lot like Christmas_ drifted through the Cyber Crimes office from Rachel’s ancient radio. Outside their room, it was mostly quiet in the building, a few stragglers finishing up the last of their paperwork on Christmas Eve. It was going to be a white holiday, that was for sure. From her desk, Anna could see that the snow that had been steadily falling throughout the day had not let up one bit. And that was just fine because tonight was also the precinct’s holiday party. And Anna had taken an Uber in to work.

Someone else could deal with the irritation of getting her back to her small bungalow because she planned on tying on a few that evening.

“Anna! Do you want some reindeer antlers?” Quinn’s comical grin could brighten an entire room. The blinking lights attached to the antlers he held out were also casting a colored glow and she laughed. Even though he was Jewish, Quinn appreciated the sights and sounds of the Yule-time festivals and had worn his signature ‘ugly Christmas sweater’ all day. As well as some antlers on his head. And a necklace of garishly blinking Christmas lights.

“Nah, go on ahead. I’ll be down in just a few minutes.” 

His eyes lingered on her face for a second too long and she gave a mental sigh. He had a crush. She did not. At least, not on him. But, Quinn would never be the sort to use the term friend-zone nor think that she’d ever jerk him around like that. One day he’d ask her out and she’d turn him down and that’d be the end of it.

No hard feelings.

She refocused and closed out of her programs. It was already pushing 6. The party down in the multi-use room had probably already started, and she needed to swing the last of her paperwork for the week by Non-violent Crimes on the fourth floor before she could kick back and relax.

Although the precinct itself bore few markers of the holidays, she was inundated with _cheer_ the moment she stepped off the elevator in the basement. The hallway leading to the multi-use room had been turned into a sight of festive revelry for the holidays. Garlands were strung across windows, lights twinkled merrily from each doorway, and the soothing sounds of Bing Crosby had been swapped for the Chipmunk’s album. She was laughing and shaking her head as she navigated around a couple of the beat cops and into the room.

There were more lights and more decorations, laughter and merriment from all corners. A large table had been pushed against the far wall for the drinks. The surface bowed in the middle under the weight of the bottles it held.

All in all, a pretty normal Christmas Eve celebration for the 5th Precinct. 

It was Anna’s third year with the department and she was still amazed at the ease with which the men and women could devolve into a bunch of ridiculous teenagers once or twice a year. There was a really awkward game of Never Have I Ever going on in the corner with a handful of the traffic cops and she was pretty sure she saw the desk sergeant challenging a couple of the SWAT guys to an arm wrestling contest. She saw Glasgow and Quinn off in another corner, pointing at people and laughing. She always enjoyed a good gossip fest; perhaps she should join them.

As she contemplated her eyes paused on Rachel’s dark head, tucked into the chest of Franky, her _fiancé._ Franky was a beat cop who had never come across as particularly _intelligent_ to Anna. He’d been the butt of more than one joke regarding his unfortunate burping habit and Anna had only been _mildly_ shocked when Rachel had waved her ring-bedecked finger at the beginning of that very week. A Christmas proposal for just the most romantic, wasn’t it?

Anna found herself rolling her eyes at the thought, however unkind it was. Franky was a putz and Anna knew he was going to cheat on Rachel. The man had propositioned Anna more than once, while dating her friend and co-worker. Sadly Anna’s concerns had fallen on deaf ears and Rachel had agreed to bind herself, forever, to a schmuck.

As long as Rachel was happy. And as long as Franky didn’t hurt her. Or manhandle her. Anna’s spine straightened when she realized that Franky was currently maneuvering Rachel closer in order to make out with her. Anna could plainly read the brunette’s discomfort with the situation in her stiff limbs. Rachel’s face was bright red, so obvious from across the room that Anna was growling at the sight. It left a sour taste in the back of Anna’s throat and she was about to go and interrupt them when something brushed her shoulder.

“Just wait.” She startled a bit at the softly accented voice that accompanied the shoulder resting against hers. Marshall stood at her side, eyes glued to the couple across the room. His jaw was clenched so tight she could see the tendons in his neck jump as he ground his teeth. “Watch.” He hadn’t looked at her yet, nodding instead to the couple.

Anna glanced away, her cheeks heating at his proximity. Rachel had wedged a hand between their bodies and given Franky enough of a shove that he backed up a few paces. The asshole brought up a hand to grab at Rachel’s wrist but she was having none of it. She batted his hand down and stuck a finger in his face.

Anna couldn’t help the coughing laugh that burst out of her chest. Rachel was a pushover sometimes but Anna was happy to see her friend stand up for herself. Marshall cleared his throat, apparently trying not to laugh too. She glanced up at him, her stomach knotting tighter as she noted he’d made an effort to calm his riotous curls. He’d also put on a button down shirt under one of his trade-mark sweaters. The deep green of the wool set off the steel gray of the undershirt and made his hair seem even darker. It also made the blue of his eyes electric when he _finally_ flicked his gaze down to her.

_It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how attractive he was for how grumpy he was._

Except he didn’t seem grumpy at that moment. He seemed almost playful and she noted the quirk of his lips with interest. He had a freckle, right there on his bottom lip and she stared at it. Anna lost herself for a moment and when he brought a beer bottle up to take a sip it broke her concentration.

Ah. Alcohol. The savior of all shy and/or perpetually bad tempered detectives. She didn’t even know he drank. 

_Say something Anna. You’re being weird._ “I’m surprised you joined us, Detective. This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

He raised the bottle in a mock cheer. “Captain’s orders. Everyone has to play nice just the way she likes it.” Across the room, Captain McKenzie was deep in conversation with Commissioner Harper. Anna laughed again, this time at the exasperated tone in Marshall’s voice. He clearly didn’t want to be there.

“Well, regardless, it’s nice to see you slumming it with us plebs. And even in a proper shirt. I’m a little impressed.” She hadn’t meant her words to come out so low, tinged with what could rightly be interpreted as interest. Truly; she had intended to say something nice and move away because it was hard to deal with a Detective Marshall that wasn’t actively glaring daggers at her.

He took another swig of beer and kept her gaze for a long, charged moment. Well. Shit. He had a freckle in his left eye too. 

_Where else did he have freckles?_

She rose a few inches at the thought and she tried to let out a calming breath. What the hell was she doing? The warmth radiating from Marshall’s arm was making her overheat. She hoped he wasn’t doing this on purpose because it felt a little cruel. The man had always been purposefully standoffish with her, even when she’d gone out of her way to be nice to him.

Marshall saved her from any further embarrassment with a tilt of his head. “Janssen. Nice to see you.” His voice was husky and was that a hint of hesitation in his voice? The detective gave her a parting glance over his shoulder as he joined the Captain on the far side of the room.

Fuck.

She most definitely checked out his ass as he walked away. Those jeans looked painted on.

She pursed her lips and gave a shaky exhale. With a last lingering glance towards the handsome Brit, she joined Glasgow and Quinn.

Anna lost a few hours to the party, time well spent with her favorite co-workers making fun of the rest of the people they worked with. Other people were low-hanging fruit to them, luddites without a concept of causality surrounding their technology. Everyone except Marshall, who could solve a case with only an hour of sleep and a strong cup of coffee. Marshall who had no business _actually smiling_ over in the corner at the Captain’s secretary. Marshall who it seemed had taken up residence in her mind as she drank the night away.

To be fair, the detective had taken up a certain, unavoidable, amount of space in her head, basically rent free, for a few months. Or a little over a year. Maybe since she’d met him. But how could she resist? He was the sort of dark and dangerous that made her panties damp and set her heart racing. His command of a room as well as the distinct bodily control he always exhibited made her think he’d be a beast in the sack.

  
And she’d seen him without a shirt. She knew he could throw her around a mattress with zero effort and she was _weak_ with the thought of it.

He was also single, didn’t work in her department, and wasn’t a superior. For all intents and purposes, Walter Marshall was _available._ He was a tough cookie and he’d never really given her any indication that he was interested but maybe that’s because she’d never really offered.

Perhaps tonight was the night to change that.

  
She cringed at the cliché; coworkers hooking up at the Christmas Party? Overdone.

But damn it was tempting.

The small hand of the clock made two rotations before she willed herself to speak to Marshall again. Not that she was keeping track of the time. Or the amount of beers she drank. Or the other women who had been circling the detective since she’d watched him walk away. She didn’t really have anything they didn’t. Other than some Dutch courage and the desire to know if his lips were as soft as she thought they’d be.

Anna stood, straightening her top and squaring her shoulders. In her tall riding boots with her own painted-on jeans she felt fearless. Flawless. Marshall was right there and she was going to march over and let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she thought he was hot. And that they should make out.

She got one step in, her foot wobbling just the _slightest_ amount with the drink. Her second step was sturdier and she was ready to take off like a flash. Rachel’s face, stepping right into her path like an emotionally unstable stanchion, stopped her in her tracks. The brunette looking a bit disheveled and upset. “Hey, uh, Anna. Can I get a ride home from you?” All thoughts about Marshall and kissing were wiped from her mind as she got a good look at her friend.

Rachel’s face was red, mascara runny with tears waiting to be shed and Anna’s heart clenched. _Fucking Franky_. The prick had disappeared which meant Rachel had been ditched. _At their own work party too. Fuck._ Anna put on a sympathetic smile and grabbed Rachel to pull her tight. “Oh, darling’. I’d love to give you a ride but I Uber’d here. Do you want me to get you one? Shouldn’t take too long, hopefully.”

Rachel gave a miserable nod, her face buried in Anna’s shoulder. Anna held the other woman, whispering soft non-sense and trying to remember in a drunken haze where the exit was. Rachel had been drinking pretty steadily as well and when she sobered she’d be embarrassed to realize she’d had a bit of a break down in front of their friends. Anna nodded to herself, noting the door, and turned Rachel to head upstairs.

She missed, entirely, that Marshall was also gone from the room.

Winter in Minnesota was not particularly pleasant and Anna could feel her teeth chattering as she loaded Rachel into the back of a car fifteen minutes later. The black Prius zipped away from the curb and up the street, disregarding the eight inches of snow the municipality hadn’t cleared from the streets yet.

Her breath drifted out into the night in resignation. That would be her. Probably soon; the thrill of the hunt for Walter Marshall had dissipated like her sigh in the sub-zero weather and now she just wanted her warm bed. She should have just gone with Rachel.

Heavy down, inundated with the smell of the forest after a rain, fell around her body and Anna almost lost her balance she jerked so hard at the sensation. There was a coat on her shoulders and it was _warm_. She wheeled around, coming up short at the sight of Marshall right at her back with his lips quirked. “What-?”

He stilled her wild careening with hands fisted lightly in the lapels of his own jacket. Which he’d obviously removed so he could wrap it around _her_. Something settled in that moment, deep inside her. The quiet of the night and the warmth of his coat combined with his proximity and that _damned_ smirk he kept shooting her.

The hunt was back on.

Anna shifted, righting herself in front of the detective. She always felt so small in front of him, like he was a giant wall of sturdy protection between her and anything that might try to get through him.

She firmly believed it would take a biblical disaster to bring Walter Marshall down.

“What are you doing out here?”

He finally broke his gaze away, a hand coming up to rub at the curls at the back of his neck. Anna watched the strong tendons of his throat flex under his ministrations and she had to gulp down the moan that threatened to burst forth. He looked god damned bashful, almost. But in a sinful, aw-shucks ma’am sort of way that made her insides wobble.

“I was seeing a colleague off, just like you.” Marshall was vague. This wasn’t abnormal. In fact, Anna would have questioned him further if he had been more forthcoming. “And then I saw you were out here shivering.” That smirk came back, full force, along with the crystalline stare that had been known to freeze her in her spot more than once.

She opened her mouth, words caught at the back of her throat. _You have the most intoxicating blue eyes,_ she wanted to say. _I want to hear your voice at the edge of my ear, whispering your pleasure to me while you explore my body with your hands._ His look was indulgent while he watched her mental battle and rather than extol the virtues of his rather formidable presence, Anna felt another shiver wrack her frame. 

Marshall shook his head in consternation and drew his coat around her more tightly. “Alright, come on then. Back inside.” Anna didn’t even protest as he herded her back into the warmth of the building. She kept her mouth shut as the hand he placed against her shoulder blades to guide her to safety drifted up higher, to the base of her neck and the skin there.

His fingers were cold against her nape. She let out a shaky breath, the combination of the warm air inside the Precinct washing over her and the chill of Marshall’s touch making her head swim. She was getting a little overwhelmed, too many warring sensations rushing through her body.

There were a couple officers in the lobby, some working and some still enjoying the revelry that had spilled out from the basement, and Marshall dropped his hand. “Will you head back to the party?”

She risked a glance up at him and the _yearning_ she caught on his face brought her feet to a stumbling stop.

The very beat of her heart seemed to thud in time to the pulse she could see echoed on the hollow of his throat and Anna knew. She knew he had to be feeling this, whatever it was between them, just as keenly as she was. 

_He had to._

And Anna knew exactly what to do. Her hands rose, parting the curtain of his coat, to find the hard planes of Marshall’s chest. He let out a soft huff at the contact but was more confused than combative as she drove him backwards to the alcove she’d sometimes take her morning coffee in.

It was quiet and out of the way and most importantly, no one could see it unless they were really looking for it.

Marshall caught her by the upper arms as she practically launched herself at him. He squeezed out a startled, “Janssen, what-?” before she sealed her lips on his. 

_Well. I’ll be damned._

His lips really were as soft as she expected they’d be. His beard was also plush under her fingers; despite his consistently unkempt appearance, Marshall took care with his personal cleanliness. The soft beard against her face smelled sweet and clean. She moaned into the realization, her body now completely flush against the hard planes she remembered from the Fair.

Marshall huffed as his hands tightening against her upper arms, almost as though he would push her away. They loosened just as quickly, shifting to the top of her back. Anna expected to feel herself crushed against his broad chest but the embrace never came and distantly she realized something chilling.

Walter Marshall wasn’t kissing her back.

She was six shades of horny and down to fuck and the detective was holding her still with a calm detachment that almost broke her heart. 

Almost because she . . . with a start she wheeled back in horror. She’d just assaulted the detective in the middle of the precinct.

“Oh. Oh God.” A shaking hand came up to her lips, touching the sensitive skin there. She had betrayed her own self and the frustration evident on Marshall’s face made her think she’d probably betrayed his trust as well. “Oh, my God. I am so sorry. I thought- I mean.” She was floundering and anxious, her hands pulling at the edges of _his jacket_. She whipped the coat off her body and shoved it back at its owner.

Now Marshall looked even more frustrated but with a pile of fabric in his arms and he opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to the punch. “Detective. I am so so sorry. I . . . I have to go-“

Marshall made to grab at her, to stop her but she was too fast. Or the jacket was too voluminous. His fingertips barely grazed her arm and she was off, up the steps and almost running back to her office. Her face burnt with humiliation; she spent an hour in the dark safety of her office chair before ordering her Uber to sneak away.

God was smiling on her because her department was slow enough that they’d taking the week between Christmas and New Year off. By the time she returned, that awkward kiss more than a eight days in her past, and she could _almost_ walk down a hallway and not turn bright red at the very thought of Walter Marshall.


	5. Chapter 5

Anna was furious, her shots a little wild and her right leg still vibrating _just a bit_ from her conversation with Rachel that morning.

She’d finally caught up with her friend for coffee. It was the first time she’d seen Rachel since they’d moved her stuff out of her shared home with her soon-to-be ex-husband. Right after the funeral. Two months of radio silence and Anna wanted to blame it on the fact that she’d been working so much but now she understood.

Rachel had been intentionally distancing herself from the department.

  
Because Rachel wasn’t _taking a break._

Rachel had gotten her dumb ass fired for a myriad of broken protocols and while Anna desperately wanted to consol her friend (they would always be friends; their bonds sank too deep) she didn’t say shit. Rachel had committed several sins that were inexcusable and borderline criminal. And she’d probably finally lose her therapist license for it too.

This whole time Anna had been under the assumption that Rachel had some mental issues to deal with and that she’d be back. Eventually. Now. Now Anna knew better. She was on her own here, again, and that was fine. Rachel shouldn’t ever have access to the public like that again.

“What are you thinking about?”

Anna jumped, having forgotten about the giant leaning against the partition off to her side. She slid him a look before she finished off her clip. It was warmer than normal down at the shooting range and Marshall had shucked off his sweater. His long-sleeve t-shirt stretched tight across that impossibly wide chest his arms crossed severely over his pecs.

She should talk to him about it. He’d been there. Rachel had said that in the aftermath he’d been the one that’d tried to pull all the little pieces of her back together in some semblance of a functional human. And just the way Rachel had said it: as though Marshall would ever approve of what Rachel had done. Maybe he did; maybe he had during the entire investigation. The thought made Anna’s stomach turn.

Her hands were a little steadier when she switched out clips. She was angry but it was crystallizing now. “Janssen. What are you thinking about?”

She knew what he’d say next. You can’t expect your hands to cooperate when your mind won’t. Your aim will be shit unless you can truly focus on the target. That had been the main lesson on their very first day of shooting together, two whole weeks ago.

At the moment she didn’t want to talk about it. She hadn’t decided if he was complicit in Rachel’s stupidity or not. And Rachel-

Her first shot went wide and she caught movement to her right as Marshall stepped up to the bench with her. He motioned for her to put the gun down and she almost wanted to ignore him and keep shooting. But that’d be stupid. Because Marshall was the expert in this arena and it didn’t matter how upset she was. She was smart enough not to argue. She dropped the clip, emptied the chambered round and took a step back. Her hand automatically reached for the bottle set off to the side.

Water was good. Water would help and whew she’d gotten herself more worked up than she had intended. “Your recertification shoot is in, oh, twenty hours and you’re down here fucking around.”

He sounded almost _playful_. Almost because there was still the trademark exasperated razor to his accent and Anna huffed out before she leaned back on the partition. Marshall’s eyes tracked her movements before he mimicked them. “So. Are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I get to write off my last two weeks of free time as a waste?”

Anna watched his expression. He was hard and impassionate but she had come to read between the lines. His brow wasn’t furrowed so he wasn’t actually angry and the slight tilt of his head meant he was curious. Concerned.

That sour taste rose in her throat again. He’d been _concerned_ about Rachel too.

“I finally talked to Rachel this morning. About _the case_.” She didn’t need to say which case and he straightened a little, that expression slipping just a bit into worried. He had the tendency to part his lips, ever so slightly, when he was watching the unexpected unfold.

“More specifically she told me about _why_ she left because she hadn’t mentioned she’d been fired when she told me I had to come take this job again. And that the entire department knew-.“ Anna couldn’t even get the words out of her mouth. Rachel had been a little vague with the details: something about impersonating that suspect’s mother because Rachel was convinced he had a split personality. It was fucked up and exceptionally unprofessional.

Marshall, for the most part, looked impassive. But, he did give her a little shake of his head. “Not the whole department. Just me, the officer assigned to guard her, and Harper. Harper didn’t want it getting out to the public.”

He was so matter of fact and she stared him down, looking for any indication of deception. “And how did you feel about it?”

That got a reaction. Marshall straightened and tightened his arms even further, protectively. His eyes deepened and she could almost swear they were black instead of just brooding. “I was the one that reported it to Harper. She- I-.“ He ran a hand up the back of his head, scrubbing at the hair at the back of his head and let out a huff. “I’m sure she told you we hooked up, after they released me from hospital?”

Anna gave the smallest nod, not trusting herself to move. Marshall was _confessing_ something to her and she couldn’t quite read the truth between the lines. 

“Rachel said something really off handed about it and I went back and watched the tapes of the interview. It happened so late in the case that I hadn’t gotten around to them yet and when I realized how far over the line she’d gone I told Harper. And then she was fired.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal and relief flooded her body. So he hadn’t approved and had done exactly what Anna would have. 

But Anna needed to know more. Some wild and desperate thing had grown from her anger: disappointment that Marshall would be with someone like Rachel. She had to know even though she had no skin in the Walter Marshall game.

“And you broke things off between the two of you.”

He froze, that bottom lip dropping just a bit more. “Yes.” Her face was still impassive but he must have seen her recalcitrance on it. “She really never told you any of this? Not even back when she was a therapist?” The way he muttered _therapist_ like it was a dirty word was laughable. Laughable and interesting.

Anna shook her head at the disbelief in his voice. “I can count on two hands the number of times Rachel has spoken your name in my presence, ever. After the funeral and after we moved her out of her house she said something about spending some time with you but she wasn’t explicit. Why? Is there more to know?”

Marshall gave her a dark look and a growl before he pushed away from the wall. He looked almost . . . feral. Like what she was telling him was the last thing he wanted to hear.

At least they were both angry now. She suspected he was more upset at himself than Rachel and she stared as he started to pack up his equipment. “ _Is_ there something more to know, Marshall?”

Her question had his hands stilling, hovering over the empty brass he’d admitted to colleting so he could refill them. One day when he had free time. “Do you remember when you kissed me? At that Christmas party?”

Now it was Anna’s turn to drop her jaw as he brought up the very last thing she thought he’d mention again. “Yeah, of course. I made an absolute _fool_ of myself and then you had to go and be all professional about it. And, I thought we weren’t ever going to talk about this?”

He was still in front of her, motionless except for the slide of his eyes as he glanced over at her. And the deep rise and fall of that muscle-bound chest she’d thought about way too many times. “I had some very good reasons for pushing you away.”

Shame crept up her chest, burnishing her skin and making the tips of her ears heat. She’d assaulted him. She’d misread the situation and had- fuck. He could have pressed charges if he’d wanted to. And she had thought she was over this but the emotional upheaval of Rachel’s confession combined with Marshall’s words had her biting back tears.

This all felt immensely unfair.

Anna didn’t understand why Marshall would bring up that night. Or suggest that she wouldn’t remember. The soft look he’d given her when they’d huddled for warmth in the cold night air still lived in her heart. She picked it apart from time to time when she needed something to distract her to sleep. 

And then there was the memory of realizing he wasn’t kissing her back. Boy was that a low point in her life. It ranked up there with breaking things off with her first boyfriend and when her Grandma had died rather suddenly. Something that was so painful it was better to just pretend it happened to someone else.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I can see those doom wheels scrolling behind your eyes and that’s not why I asked if you remembered.”

The world stopped spinning long enough for her to realize Marshall had turned to face her head on. Had dropped the arms he crossed protectively over his chest so often. And was instead reaching for her like he’d very much so like to comfort her.

_What in the actual fuck?_

His hand stopped shy of her upper arm. He raised it to her face instead, extending just his thumb. “I pushed you away for several reasons, the largest of those being that I believed you were intoxicated and it would have been inappropriate to engage in sexual acts with you.” 

Those were a lot of words for Marshall to string together, especially directed at Anna. He sounded so clinical and matter of fact, his eyes holding hers so she could see the intensity in his gaze. He put up his pointer finger. “Reason two: the last I knew you were dating someone. And I’ve been a cheater and I’ve helped people cheat but I recently found out I have no stomach for it.”

_Seeing someone?_

Marshall was polite enough to wait while she flipped through her mental rolodex. December in ’16 she’d been single since . . . Mike’s warm smile washed though her memory, of a muggy night in August at the State Fair and Marshall without a shirt. Really? That had been over for months before that party. Then she remembered that Marshall wasn’t one for gossip and she could give him a point for the caution. But, the comment about not having a stomach for cheating? Was he talking about Rachel? Rachel who just, as of that very morning, signed her divorce papers. Months after the relationship Marshall had just admitted to had ended?

This was getting complicated but Marshall wasn’t done. He held up his ring finger now, three major points to make. “My final reason was _Rachel_. I . . . I’ve been carrying around this awful belief that you know about the darkest moments in my life because she _told_ you. Because you’re her best friend and she tells you everything. Or so she claimed during one of our late night ‘sessions’.” He sounded ashamed and Anna frowned.

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she-?” A light flipped in her head. “You. You were her patient. You were the patient she- oh, fuck. Marshall!” Anna tried to keep the reprimand out of her voice but she couldn’t quite manage it. 

About a year before _the case_ , Rachel had been transferred to Cyber to work as a profiler. 

Anna, understandably, had been overjoyed until she dug a little bit of the truth out of her friend. Rachel had slept with a patient. A married patient who worked at the precinct. And rather than revoke her license, which they had a legal obligation to do, the precinct removed her from the problem.

“No. No, she never said anything about you in particular. I knew why she ended up in my department. I just never knew who . . . “ She trailed off. 

  
_Christ what a mess._

“You thought she’d share what happened during your sessions? Or that you’d cheated on your wife? She was a pretty suspect therapist but I’ve never known her to break HIPAA and privacy laws.”

Marshall brushed his worry away with a hand in his hair and a frustrated fuck. He turned, going back to cleaning up but she was having none of that.

They were having an actual, honest to god _moment._ He hadn’t rolled his eyes once at her. In fact, they’d been getting along swimmingly for the last week during these shooting lessons. Every day she almost coaxed a real smile out of him at least once and this whole time she’d thought she was wearing him down into friendship.

Maybe- maybe there was something else she was wearing down, like his resistance. She pushed away from her own wall and reached out to lay a soft hand on his wrist. “Marshall, your secrets are safe with Rachel, I promise, and I broke up with Mike _months_ before that kiss and I’d had a few that night but I was in no way compromised or anywhere near incapacitated. Believe me when I say-.”

Whatever placation she was about to spew next was cut off with a deep growl that struck her speechless. Marshall squeezed his eyes shut and she could feel every muscle in his forearm tighten. And then, with something bordering on a whine, he relaxed. His eyes shot open before turning to stare her down. She gave him her most supportive smile and then was just about bowled over by 230 lbs of British hunk. 

Marshall surged into her, hands coming up to cup her cheeks as he backed her into the wall. And then pressed her tight against his body. The smell of sulfur in the room faded away as his lips and his scent and his touch overwhelmed everything else around her. 

He was kissing her. Marshall was kissing her and his lips were just as soft as she remembered. 

Only this time _he_ was actually kissing her. His fingertips pressed lightly into her jaw and she gasped in response. His clever tongue took the opportunity to delve between her lips and that made her gasp again.

Marshall’s response was deep from his chest and it sent a shiver through her body.

Just as quickly as it began it ended, blue eyes staring down at her in a panic as though he just remembered himself.

And who she was. 

And where they were standing. 

He took first one step backwards and then two more, breathing heavily. “Janssen, I-.”

She shook her head violently. “No. You call me Anna now.” She wagged a finger at him, feeling out of breath her own self. “You kissed me. Like you meant it.”

He shifted foot to foot, eyes catching on her for just a second before flicking away. “I did. Was that alright?”

The man should have asked but then again. Anna should have asked too, that Christmas Eve so many years ago. “Yes. Alright is definitely a word I would use. But, perhaps not at the shooting range. Next time?”

Marshall quirked the corner of his mouth and stilled his incessant movement. “Next time?”

She nodded before casually taking a step forward. Instead of going to him, like they both were probably desperate for, she turned to the bench and started to clean up her loaner gun. “Yeah. Next time. After you take me out on a proper date.”

Marshall smiled a tired and scared looking thing. Anna’s heart bloomed at the sight and when he joined her at the bench, there was a new found closeness to the way he moved his hands next to her. The way he paused when his fingers drew near, as though he was thinking about touching her, before going back to his own tasks.

She gave him a grin.

The look he gave her in return wasn’t happy. It wasn’t and Anna knew it would be a long time before she’d get something bordering on truly happy with Walter Marshall.

But she would get him there.


	6. Comfortable

2014

“Close your eyes. 

Keep them closed.

What’s the one thing you’ve been asking for?”

That was easy. “A cat. A black cat with white paws. I’d name her Mittens.”

_“_ What else?”

Anna cracked an eyebrow and gave her laptop screen a questioning look. 

Rachel’s wide grin filled half of her screen. A single piece of paper bearing the official seal of the Minneapolis Municipal Police Department filled the other half. The blond took a moment to read the paper.

Her eyes widened when she got to the important part and Anna’s jaw dropped. “I got it? The job; I got the job!?”

Rachel gave her an excited nod, her squeal of joy joining Anna’s over Skype. “That’s real, right? This isn’t a joke? How did you even get that?!” Anna couldn’t help the slightly manic edge to her words. Her best friend gave her a secretive smile, so very reminiscent of the gawky teen Anna had met all those years ago.

Once upon a time in a dorm room not far from where she sat in her studio apartment, Anna made friends with another undergrad named Rachel. Rachel was quiet, like Anna, and enjoyed the Bare Naked Ladies, just like Anna, and preferred to sit around and talk about the Revolutionary Girl Utena anime instead of . . . you know . . . _boys._ Or men. Males. Whatever. The young women were disinterested, staying up late to debate what color their duelist roses would be.

Rachel was beautiful and charming in her own tentative way and Anna fell in love. Just a little bit. Not enough to make her want to make a romantic move but enough that she started hanging the moon on Rachel’s rising star. 

At nineteen they shared a dumpy apartment, Anna chugging away at her coding classes while Rachel got to hang out at the Caribou Coffee on Snelling talking about how Freud ruined women’s lib. Or some such non-sense. For four years, through Anna’s undergrad and her first two years at Tech Guru, Anna spent a lot of time just smiling and nodding at Rachel.

Psychology wasn’t her bag. There were too many unknown variables and there really wasn’t a way to accurately hack the human psyche. 

When they were twenty three, Rachel got a job with the _Minneapolis_ (Oh my GOD Rachel, why the hell would you move across the river?!) police department and for the first time in her post-teenage life, Anna was on her own.

And life hadn’t sucked. Anna was popular at work, half because she did actually have a fucking clue and half because the dumb nerd boys enjoyed looking at her. She happened to work in a field that made that beauty a commodity and as much as she didn’t like to weaponize her femininity, it helped. A lot. Dudes would step over themselves to accommodate her wishes. She was beautiful and she was the queen nerd. Life definitely hadn’t sucked.

But the scene got old. A woman moving from her early twenties into her almost-thirties would wonder: is this all there is? _When I get older and start looking average will I just be the weirdo in the corner?_ You know the one. The one with extra thick glasses, wearing the heaviest cardigans she can buy. Or maybe she makes them herself, applying her mathematics training to design the _perfect_ knitted pattern.

At twenty seven, Anna wondered if she should start investing in wool futures.

She’d have to learn to knit first but she was nothing if not a go-getter. A head-starter. Her whole life she had jumped the gun if only to beat everyone else at their own game. Scratch that. Her own game.

It got old.

Maybe she got old?

Rachel would laugh at her. And why the hell would Anna feel old? She wasn’t even thirty.

She had miles to go, thank you very much Robert Frost. 

So why did everything seem so tedious?

It was this monotonously disastrous outlook that had made Anna looking for something more . . . long term. Where no one would judge her if she kept a gigantic clothes basket full of yarn balls next to her desk. Rachel had been more than happy to submit her application with the police department. 

And now.

And now, exactly what she’d wanted.

“Pack your bags, babe. You’re coming across the River.”

Well. Moving was probably in the future, but not for a while. She had three months left on her lease and so what if it took her forty five minutes to drive all the way over to the 5th Precinct the next day? It was a straight shot. Through parts of the city she’d never been before. She had a box of basic desk accoutrement as she paused in front of the building.

It was lots of glass windows and hard concrete, steps leading down into the building itself. A few squad cars were parked in front as she offhandedly wondered if she’d done something wrong. She was nervous but there wasn’t any reason to be nervous. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She was supposed to be there.

It was anticipation, she figured. Anticipation for the first day and if she’d like her co-workers and oh it would be wonderful to take lunch and just _go see Rachel_ a few floors away. It had been ages since they’d had that kind of access to one another.

She smiled and hiked the box higher on her hip. It was a good day to start the rest of her life.

She entered, immediately blown away by the decorous entry and the myriad of windows. It was so bright and open. A reception desk set off to her left and a set of stairs lead up to the next floor, tucked away behind another pair of glass doors and a metal detector. Just in case, she supposed. She stopped by reception to get a bad ( _that they had *waiting* for her holy shit this was happening)_ and then went through the security scan.

It was painless, the officer who looked through her stuff chuckled at her nerdy paraphernalia and then waived her through. “Cyber Crimes are one floor up. Take a left and then at the end of the corridor, take a right. You’ll run right into it.”

Anna wasn’t even sure she was supposed to be headed to her new department. Her contact, Quinn, had been vague but it was as good of a place to start. Lightly humming _Still Alive,_ Anna headed the stairs to her new life.

Or.

Had intended to go up the stairs.

But the thing was. With the box in her arms and the unfamiliar terrain she wasn’t really . . . watching where she was going. She was, in fact, downright ignorant of the fact that people used the stairs like they drove. Keep to the right. Which she had subconsciously done but someone had missed the memo.

Or more accurately, after almost a decade in the States, someone was still expecting everyone to follow British driving protocol. A someone arguing furiously with the phone in his hand. The argument was less important that the glance he shot back up the stairs when he thought someone called his name.

That glance _was_ important because Anna and her first-day-on-the-job box ran smack dab into an immovable object and lost a fight with gravity.

The sound she made as she whirled and lost hold of her belongings would become office fodder for a few weeks.

Anna’s hands, suddenly free, were able to catch her after she’d landed on her ass and slid down a few feet. She took in a few deep breaths, cataloging the pain in her ass and her palms but largely uninjured. She wasn’t usually clumsy which meant an outside source. She glanced back up the stairs, hoping to find a marble statue someone had placed in the middle of the stairs _for some ungodly reason._

What she found was not a statue but a man.

A man with curly, dark hair and a thoroughly confused frown upon his face. She gulped. Was this it? Had she died and that was the devil, come to collect her? The man looked completely unprepared for the situation. His eyes flitted from her form, prone a few steps down from him, to the phone in his hand with a tinny angry voice still yelling at him, to the myriad of personal possessions strewn across the steps, and then back to her. 

She blinked, hoping to clear her head of the image but it wouldn’t go. She blinked again then realized she’d really just run into some random guy and thrown her shit _all over_ the stairs and now she was staring at him like a crazy person. “Um. Are you okay?” Smooth, Anna.

“Am _I okay?_ Are you okay?” Remembering he was a real human being who was definitely not a statue, the man rushed down the steps to help her to her feet. His blues eyes were wide with concern, his bottom lip drooping slightly.

Gosh. Standing on the same step as her he was a giant. He had a hand on her upper arm, just holding her steady, and she gave him a brilliant grin. “Yeah. Just fine. I’m sorry I ran into you. I didn’t see you there.” Apologizing, again. _Stop it Anna_.

The man shook his head. He licked his lips and gave her a rueful smile. She felt her heart flip once, then twice. Tall and handsome. Under that shaggy beard she could see the strong definition of his jaw and she figured those curls would just be the softest. “Um, yes. I’m sorry too. I wasn’t watching where I was going-.” He raised the phone in explanation and then sighed as he registered the voice still yelling. His eyes closed in resignation and that tongue came back out. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Family emergency.”

Anna hummed an acknowledgement, turning to follow the man as he fled down the stairs. What was the saying? She hated to say goodbye but she loved to watch him go? As he disappeared through the security doors she could hear him pleading with someone named Angie and then he was gone.

If her stuff hadn’t still been scattered across the staircase she might have imagined the tall, hunky stranger. The tall, handsome, _British_ stranger who abandoned women after running them over. She shook her head to snap out of the revelry and collected her things. She was tragically close to being late on her very first day.

Later, after she’d trailed after Rachel like a duckling and laughed more than she had in an age, she learned that there was only one grumpy British detective. A shadow crossed Rachel’s face when Anna asked and she was immediately worried that Rachel had done something stupid like fallen for the man. 

Thankfully, Rachel hadn’t done such a stupid thing. That was Walter Marshall and he was (currently) very married and disinclined to participate in trivial Minnesota Polite niceties. Like not running over new coworkers and leaving before at least helping said new co-worker pick up their stuff.

That was a disappointment. A man that pretty should not be that rude. He needed a warning sign: _Caution. Very Grumpy Despite Pleasant Exterior._ She was ready to dismiss the whole thing. Rachel was relatively sure Anna would never have to work with him and Anna was relatively sure she’d forget all about Walter Marshall.

A week into her tenure there was a tight knock at the office door and she glanced up to find _Detective Marshall_ standing just outside. She was alone for the afternoon, which she was immensely thankful for when her attempted to rise was aborted halfway through as she got caught on the space between her desk and chair. She was only half on her feet when he motioned for her to stop.

“I just wanted to apologize for running you over the other day.” He scrubbed a hand up the back of his head, ruffling his curls distractedly. Her mouth went dry. “I, uh, am usually much more careful.” He sounded so sincere and resigned and it was making her stomach do funny things again. _What in the world was wrong with her?_

She smiled and nodded automatically. “Oh, yeah, for sure. Definitely.” Marshall raised an eyebrow at her response and she about died. _What the fuck just came out of my mouth?_ “I mean. Me too. I’m usually more careful. First day jitters and all.” He still looked fairly skeptical. “Yeah, new girl. That’s me. Anna, by the way. Janssen.” For Christ’s sake.

“Marshall. I work homicide.”

She bit her lip before she could say something dumb. Like that she knew exactly who he was. Instead she gave him a steady smile, keeping her cool. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

If she expected more from the conversation she was sorely disappointed. Marshall gave her another skeptical once over and nodded as he departed.

Anna sank back to her seat, her knees almost knocking together. She was fairly certain every inch of her skin was scarlet with embarrassment and it was making her a little light headed. She let out a devastated sigh and let her head drop to her desk. Thank fucking Christ she wouldn’t have to work with him much. Her hormones would kill her if she was subjected to the sight of him so often. Perhaps that was why he was so grumpy. It was possible it would temper people’s responses to him. Rachel was going to laugh at her for _hours_ when Anna spilled the beans on this debacle.


End file.
